Page 45 of The Christmas Letters
I shrug, feigning an indifference I definitely don’t feel. “It was nothing. We’re just friends.”
“Yeah, he wasnotwatching you like he only wants to be your friend. What did you do to change his mind?”
“Nothing,” I say a little too quickly, and Chloe’s eyebrows shoot up. “As far as I know, he hasn’t changed his mind,” I say in a more neutral tone, even as I force the thought of myalmostkiss with Drew out of my mind. “Besides, it doesn’t matter even if he has because I’m not interested. Not now.” I drop the last armful of presents into my car, then prop my hands on my hips. “Not when I just asked Max to meet me in person.”
Chloe’s jaw drops. “You did what? When? Has he responded?”
“Not yet, but it’s only been a couple of days since I sent it. I’m sure he will soon.”
My reassurance doesn’t do anything to improve Chloe’s doubtful expression, and I drop my hands on her shoulders, turning her to face me. “Please trust me, Chlo. I know it sounds crazy, but I really do have a good feeling about him. If it will make you feel better, I’ll make sure our meeting place is somewhere public. You can even come too if you want.”
“I do want,” she says. “Me and Deacon both should be there.”
“Count me in,” Deacon says. “I’m happy to play the role of scary older brother whenever you need me.”
I’ve never had an older brother, and Deacon’s willingness to watch out for me makes my heart squeeze. When I was in Paris, I worried I’d come home and have to see Chloe on the sly, sneaking around her husband and the rest of his family. But this is so much better. Especially now that Preston and I have made our peace, eliminating any lingering awkwardness between us.
Chloe leans up and kisses him on the cheek. “Good man.”
“In the meantime,” Deacon says, “how do we feel about going out for a drink? I think we deserve one after how hard we’ve worked tonight.”
“How hardyouworked?” Chloe says. “You wrapped half as many presents as the rest of us. Also, I’d rather have a milkshake than watch you guys drink.”
“I second milkshakes,” I say.
Deacon holds up his finger. “I got a paper cut. Those things hurt.”
“Want me to call Drew over?” Chloe jokes.
“He already gave me a band-aid. But weshouldask him to come with us. Hey Drew!” he calls across the mostly empty pavilion.
Drew is on the opposite end, bagging up the last of the trash, and he holds up a hand in response, motioning toward the dumpster where I assume he’ll drop the trash before coming over.
My stomach pitches at the thought of him coming with us. With just the four of us, it’s going to feel like a double date. Which is the exact opposite of what I need if I have any hope of quelling my growing crush.
Chloe uses the back of her hand to smack Deacon in the chest. “Don’t you think we should askTessif she’s good with Drew coming?”
“Oh. Right,” Deacon says. “Sorry, Tess. Are you okay if I invite him?”
I shrug like it’s no big deal, mostly because if I say that Deacon can’t invite him, then I’m acknowledging that itisa big deal, and that will make it evenmoreof a big deal because then Chloe will know. “Totally fine with me. We’re friends. Friends can get milkshakes together. But we should invite Ben, too,” I add, thinking that will kill any double date energy. “I think they rode here together.”
Turns out, Bencan’tcome, so Drew agrees to drive him back to the EMS station, then meet us atScoop,an ice cream place Chloe and I have loved since we were kids.
I ride over with Deacon and Chloe, who thankfully doesn’t ask a single follow-up question about my “we’re just friends” declaration. Which is good because I can’t explain how I’m feeling about Drew toherif I haven’t even figured it out myself.
“Okay,” Deacon says, clapping his hands. “This or That. Lightning Round. Let’s do it.”
I push my empty milkshake glass to the center of the worn Formica tabletop atScoop.
“No way,” I say, glancing at Drew, who is sitting next to me. “Drew and I hardly know each other.”
Unsurprisingly, it’s been perfectly comfortable having Drew hang out with us like this—he fits right in. He is also charming and attentive and a great conversationalist. He’s interesting too, full of random information that keeps the conversation moving. But he’s somehow still humble about it. He never seems like he’s trying to look smart or talking just to hear himself talk. It’s more like he just really likes talking to people.
I genuinely like having him around—something that’s getting harder and harder to ignore. If I want to play this thing out with Max—and I do—I cannot keep hanging out with Drew. He’s making it way too hard.
Chloe rolls her eyes. “That only matters if you plan on changing your answers to match his. Which is cheating.”
I scoff but can’t truly object. “It isn’t cheating. It’s just…intentionally changing my mind at opportune times.”
